Stone Valley is a hyperreal place at sunset; the effect is a bit different from above but no less magical. The rapids do, I’ll grant, look a bit less steep from up here.
Last summer, Herring-Cole Hall in the foreground received a new roof. They say the building is haunted; I wonder if the ghost appreciated the upgrade?
The red-roofed Outing Club building has all kinds of odd decorations that have made it a frequent subject for me in the past; this sunset view puts my previous work in a rather different context. St. Lawrence University’s campus is just across the street, and the town of Canton is down the road in the distance.
Universities think on long timescales (decades and centuries) and as a result, the oldest building on St. Lawrence’s campus (Richardson, on the right) overlooks the newest addition (the quad in front of Kirk Douglas Hall).
Though school may be out “forever” when summer arrives, there’s a stillness that overtakes the campus of which I am not particularly fond. At the start of this spring semester, campus is bustling. Is it ironic that campus is “alive” when frozen solid, but “dead” when it looks like this.
Sunsets might be a cliché subject for a landscape photograph, but the North Country’s specimens offer such glowing, striated features with such regularity that the truly exceptional examples can strain my belief in atmospheric models of cloud formation and light scattering.
Winter’s lockdown continues (it might warm up above -10ºF today!), but spring will eventually return. The footbridge to SUNY Canton will eventually be free of ice and the smallest hints of leaves will peak out from the tree branches.